


Beware the Ides of March: A Lesson

by cristina_lore



Series: Flowers Verse [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ides of March reference, Initially though he is very upset about the stolen flowers, Keith steals flowers from Lance's garden, Keith's dead parents, Lance makes some erroneous assumptions, Lance somehow scores a date, Language of Flowers, M/M, The Office reference, because I'm a nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 06:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17381081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cristina_lore/pseuds/cristina_lore
Summary: "Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery, but today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the “girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft” and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to a graveyard."I kept seeing this prompt so here's my take, except it's from the perspective of the person who owns the garden.





	Beware the Ides of March: A Lesson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vespa26](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vespa26/gifts).



The man had been stealing his flowers for months now. 

 

The first time Lance had seen Mystery Man, he had thought he was imagining him. Because come on. No way would someone sneak into someone’s garden in the middle of the afternoon to quickly snatch up some flowers.

 

The second time, Lance had been so shocked that the thief  _ wasn’t  _ a figment of his imagination that he had just kind of stood frozen in his kitchen, staring out the window.

 

After the third time, he had told his housemates Hunk and Pidge. They had both been intrigued, and had offered to set up a surveillance system, but he had declined. It wasn’t about proving that there was someone stealing from his garden, it was about being able to catch the guy in the act, and like, scold him or something. Hunk had given him a  _ what-can-you-do _ shrug, and Pidge had offered to set up booby traps around the garden. After careful deliberation, Lance said no to that as well. Pidge was maybe a little bit too big of a fan of the  _ Home Alone _ movies. She had quickly lost interest after that. 

 

Since then, Lance had accumulated a list of facts about the Flower Thief:

 

  1. He had atrocious hair (this was a useless fact for catching the guy red-handed, but still. It was worth noting.
  2. He didn’t know someone had seen him, or maybe he didn’t care, because he kept his (unfairly pretty) face uncovered at all times. Though he did seem to move with a certain amount of stealth.
  3. He seemed to know at least a little bit about flower care, because he carefully cut the stems instead of just pulling them from the ground like a heathen.
  4. He always came any day between the 12th and 18th of every month. Whatever he wanted the flowers for, he was clearly on some sort of schedule. Lance was personally betting that he was one of those really sappy dudes who gave his girlfriend flowers on the regular. He probably celebrated monthly anniversaries.
  5. It didn’t seem to matter what type of flowers he got, just that they had to be in full bloom.



 

This had been going on for a year already, and honestly, Lance was tired of it. Sure, he was a romantic at heart, so it was kind of sweet to see a guy go to such lengths for his girlfriend, but really? Why couldn’t the guy go to a flower shop and get a bouquet? Was it really so hard? Maybe he and his girlfriend were into stealing? If they were, they probably had a good laugh at the poor schmuck that was getting his hard work trampled on.

 

The thought made Lance’s blood boil. He really needed to catch this guy already. The problem was that he was just too damn fast. By the time Lance made it to his door, the guy was already gone - every goddamn time. Lance was starting to think he’d just have to live on the porch from now on.

 

And then came the blessed day. The 15th of March. Lance wouldn’t think to appreciate the irony of the situation - someone definitely hadn’t bewared the Ides of March - until much later, and even then, it would make him want to facepalm. But for now, it was 2:35 in the afternoon, spring was coming, and Lance was making his way outside, already thinking about what flowers grew best in the coming season.

 

All thinking came to an abrupt halt once he caught the eye of the man in his garden, frozen in an awkward, half-bent position. For a few seconds, they did nothing but stare at each other. Somehow, Lance was able to shake off his surprise and he ran down the steps and towards the thief, who had straightened already but seemed resigned to his fate. Good.

 

“Well, well, well, well, well.”  _ That’s six ‘wells,’ _ Lance mentally added with a laugh. The Office had some iconic lines. He forced himself to focus.

 

“So how pretty is she?” Oh God, Lance was a fool. There were so many things he could have opened with, so many zingers, and he went with asking the guy how pretty his girlfriend was. He tried his best not to cringe.

 

“What?” The stranger crossed his arms and scowled at him, and ok, that was so completely unfair.

 

Lance gestured at his garden. “Well, seeing as how you’ve been  _ stealing _ my flowers for the past  _ year, _ I can only assume that some girl is waiting for her flowers right at this moment. Although, come on dude, go to a fucking flower shop.” He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

 

The blush on the guy’s face was very gratifying. Even more so when he mumbled, “Yours are better than the flower shop’s. And they charge too much anyway.”

 

Lance snorted. “I’ll take your word for it, but still. You’re taking a bit of a risk here, always taking my  _ superior _ flowers. Either your girl is really demanding or she’s the prettiest girl in the world, inside and out.” He waved a hand at the dude’s face. “And going off the look on your face, I don’t think you’d put up with anyone who would try to force you to do anything. So yeah. How pretty is this girl?”

 

The man shuffled his feet, an uncertain look flitting across his face. He cleared his throat. “She’s the best.”

 

“I want to see.”

 

Pretty Boy’s (hey, Lance could look all he wanted, alright?) eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

 

Lance gave him a flat look. “I  _ mean, _ I want to meet this special girl. They’re my flowers, so I get to decide who’s good enough to get them. Have you told her that you take them from a random person’s garden?”

 

“...Yes.”

 

“Alright then.” Lance clapped his hands together. “Then you can take me to meet her, tell her you got caught, we can all have a laugh and a cup of coffee or something, and then I’ll tell you if you have my permission to keep giving her the fruits of my labor. Capiche?” 

 

Lance was self-aware enough to know that he kind of sounded like an arrogant dick, and that a guy with a natural scowl like this guy seemed to have would probably punch him in the face for it. But he was so, so curious. And annoyed. Mostly annoyed. He was counting on his annoyance to tide him over whatever consequences his little speech had.

 

After a short but awkward silence, Pretty Boy sighed. “Alright, capiche.”

 

“Wait, really?” Lance raised his hands, as if that could protect him from the narrow-eyed glare his question had elicited. “I mean, yeah, ok. Cool cool cool cool cool. Get some flowers and let’s go. Oh, by the way, what’s your name, dude? I’m Lance.”

 

The man bent down to quickly cut away a handful of snowdrops. He stood back up, then turned to walk away, throwing a short, “Keith,” over his shoulder. Lance huffed at his clipped demeanor, but hurried to keep pace with him nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

They hadn’t talked for the entirety of their walk, and if it had been more than just a few blocks, Lance was sure he would have vibrated out of his skin with nervous energy. As it was, he was just about to open his mouth and start rambling about whatever popped into his head first, when Keith suddenly stopped. Lance almost ran right into him, and was ready to let loose a sharp quip, when he started to really take in his surroundings.

 

They were at a cemetery.

 

Keith opened the gate and walked in, casual as you please, while Lance struggled with his rising dread. This could  _ not  _ be happening.

 

Except it apparently could, because Keith stopped in front of two name plates with flowers weighted down between them, and knelt down in the damp grass. Feeling like an intruder, but also feeling like just standing there would be disrespectful, Lance also knelt down, a little ways beside him.

 

Keith took the weights off the old flowers, then carefully tied the little discs to the new flowers. He gently placed them between the plates. The old flowers drifted off in the slight breeze. 

 

Then - silence. Lance glanced at Keith. The other man had his eyes shut and his head bowed. Whatever he wanted to say - and surely he wanted to say  _ something _ \- stayed within the confines of his mind. Lance hoped that this was usually how Keith did things, that he wasn’t intruding upon such an intimate scene any more than he already had.

 

After a while, Keith spoke. “I come here for my mom and dad. They’re not actually buried here. My dad died in a fire and my mom - well, she’s  _ presumed _ dead. I don’t really remember her, but I have pictures. I have what my dad used to tell me.” He looked at Lance. “‘Prettiest girl at any ball,’ he told me. And yeah.” He shrugged. “She was pretty. People who knew her - they tell me I look just like her.”

 

Lance’s heart pounded in his chest. He was a certified  _ asshole. _ And he was never ever telling Hunk and Pidge about this. 

 

“And my dad -” here Keith shot him a wry smile “- people always used to talk about how handsome he was, how charming or whatever. Still do sometimes. So you know. Flowers for two pretty people, not just one.”

 

Lance swallowed down the urge to groan in humiliation. He was successful, though he could feel that his face hadn’t gotten the memo he had given his vocal chords - he knew he was blushing hardcore right now. He exhaled heavily.

 

“Look, dude, I’m sorry. I was annoyed, and curious, and I totally wanted to embarrass you but that completely backfired. Should have known better than to open my dumbass mouth.”

 

“It’s not that dumb.” Keith grinned when Lance choked on his own spit. “It’s saying some pretty nice things right now.”

 

Lance rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess.” They were quiet for another few moments. Then Lance cleared his throat. “Listen man, it’s cool if you don’t want to tell me, but - did your parents have any favorite flowers?”

 

Maybe he could make up for his epic faux pas.

 

Keith gave him an appraising look, then slowly smiled. Lance cursed himself for having to catch his breath at the sight. God, today was just one big lesson in bad timing.

 

“As a matter of fact, yeah. Delphiniums. They - there’s a whole story behind it, like it has to do with flower language and double meanings and misunderstandings -”

 

“Sounds like a soap opera,” Lance interrupted before he could help himself. Luckily for him, Keith just huffed out a laugh.

 

“Yeah, pretty much.”

 

“Uh...I mean, I wouldn’t mind hearing the story?” Lance bit his lip, and internally screamed at his complete inability to keep his thoughts to himself.  _ Well, _ he thought, _ might as well go full hog on this. _ “The offer for coffee is still on the table, if you want?”

 

There was that appraising look again, and Christ on a Cheezit, it should have been impossible for his face to burn more than it already had.

 

Keith stood up, dusting himself off and then walking away. Lance looked after him forlornly - until Keith turned around and asked, “Well? You’re buying, aren’t you?”

 

Lance grinned, quickly standing up and jogging over to him. Once he caught up, he slowed to a leisurely pace, Keith right by his side. “Coffee’s cheap, so  _ you  _ can buy. But I’ll tell you what.” He waggled his eyebrows at Keith. Keith bit back a grin.

 

“What?”

 

“You can have however many flowers you want, whenever you want. I might even try my hand at growing something new.” He racked his brain for whatever knowledge he had on the language of flowers. “I hear ranunculus flowers are nice. Peonies too. Might even throw in a few of those delphiniums.”

 

He worked up the courage to nudge Keith playfully. “Deal?”

 

Keith nudged him back, a small, shy smile on his face. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comment if you want to hear the small tale of Keith's parents and delphiniums sdkoas


End file.
